


Rock Bottom

by gillyandersons



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drinking, F/F, Rock Bottom - Freeform, bernies pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 23:18:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8228144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillyandersons/pseuds/gillyandersons
Summary: Bernie's spiralled into a deep, dark depression since she got to the Ukraine. She thinks she's already hit rock bottom, but then she sees something that sends her spiralling out of control.





	

She was miserable, had been since the moment she walked away from Serena in the hospital. This was her dream job, and she should be alive and thriving there, but she wasn't. She goes in, gets the job done, but her heart isn't in it.

She's not very popular, but she doesn't really care. People had been so kind and welcoming, and they always tried to make her feel included, so that she wasn't _the new girl_ , but when she didn't decline their offer for after work drinks or joining them for lunch, she wasn't much company anyway.

Bernie knows she's spiralled into this deep, dark depression since she left. But she's not in any hurry to try and snap out of it, she doesn't particularly want to. She deserves the pain and the loneliness.

_Stupid, stupid, coward_.

She's repeated that so goddamn much over the past couple of weeks that her colleagues think she is crazy. And maybe she is. No, she _definitely_ is because she walked away from her one chance at true happiness. She walked away from Serena.

Her apartment in Ukraine is small, nothing fancy. She hasn't bothered to move into it properly, to make it feel more home-y. The walls are bare, save for the few pictures of Cameron and Charlotte she's had for years and has carried everywhere.

Those two pictures have survived multiple tours in a war zone and are probably her most prized possessions.

But that's about it. She feels numb and disconnected to the whole experience, really. The job gives her zero satisfaction. She can't remember the last time she smiled or laughed and truly _meant_ it.

She knows she brought this on herself. That she fucked herself, and Serena, over. And she hates herself for it.

Why couldn't she have just stayed? Why did she have to let the fear of her feelings for Serena envelop and control her?

She was so goddamn afraid of hurting Serena or getting hurt herself _again_ that she ended up doing just that.

It had been hard enough to live with herself after she had hurt Marcus and Alex, but _fuck_. Serena was a whole new level of pain.

Which was odd, considering she hadn't even ventured into a relationship with the other woman. She'd been married to Marcus for 25 years and that had hurt less than she did now.

But, love equals pain. Somebody always ends up getting hurt where she is concerned. She couldn't do that to Serena. And yet, somehow, she had.

But at least she hadn't had the chance to _properly_ hurt Serena. Serena could get over her quickly. They were over before they even began.

At least that's what Bernie told herself.

She had to believe that, otherwise she wouldn't survive.

She could survive Kandahar. She could survive an IED. She could survive flatlining on an operating table. She could survive a messy divorce. But she couldn't survive hurting Serena Campbell.

She couldn't survive Serena full stop.

Her heart was heavy, filled with a constant dull ache which only seemed to worsen with every passing day.

The nights seemed to be the hardest. At least in the day she was usually busy with patients or surgery and she could forget for just a few hours and bury herself in work. But the nights were dark and lonely and _dangerous_. She was left alone with her thoughts. And not to mention her fucking PTSD had decided to resurface in the past few weeks.

So even if she _could_ sleep, she doesn't want to in fear that she will have more night terrors. It's not like she has Serena anymore, she can't ring her up at 2am and listen to her just _talk_ till she falls back asleep. Her soothing voice calming Bernie down more than anything and anyone has ever had the power to do before.

She's well and truly alone.

Maybe she shouldn't have pushed away her colleagues. Because then she could have had some sort of distraction. A bar or the movies or a meal. Something, _anything_. But she has nothing.

She is teetering on the edge of alcoholism, probably, but she doesn't particularly care. The vodka helped her. Not much, but it provided something.

She either drank till she passed out, or till it numbed the ache in her chest.

Cameron rang her every single day at this point. It had started off as every few days, but even from the comfort of his own home, he could tell there was something wrong with his mother. She'd broken down on the phone to him one night, telling him all about Serena and how she had well and truly messed that up because she was _stupid_ and she was a _coward_ and that she was so fucking afraid of love and feelings and _pain_ and yet she'd caused a fucking shitstorm. He had told her that he was booking tickets to the Ukraine right away, but Bernie had told him that she was fine. That she _would_ be fine. That he needed to continue his studies, because that would help her. Knowing he was safe and happy and working toward something. That was what she needed right now.

He hadn't exactly bought it, but he had told her that he was going to ring her every single day to make sure she was okay. Twice a day if he had to.

Even as a child, Bernie had been good at lying, so as far as Cameron knew, she was happy. She had a bunch of friends from work and that night she had been rock bottom.

She felt sick with guilt every time she lied, but it was better him think that than know the truth. Right?

That was another thing she needed to work on, Bernie made a mental note to herself as she poured herself another glass of vodka. Lying.

That had been the main thing that caused all the fights between her and Serena.

She hadn't exactly _meant_ to lie about things, the affair with Alex and the whole thing with Cameron and the car accident. But she had. And as angry as Serena got, she always, _always_ , forgave her and gave her another shot.

Serena had always been so willing to forgive her, even after she did some pretty unforgivable things. Even after Bernie had fucked up time and time again, somehow Serena had always given her another chance. When had anyone else ever done that for her in her life?

It’s only now, when it's too late, that Bernie realises these things.

She downs her vodka in one, relishing in the way the alcohol burns her throat, drowning out that bitter realisation.

_The phrase you never know what you've got until it's gone_ whizzes around Bernie's head and she scoffs, her tone salty and more bitter by the second.

It's so fucking cliche, but that's what her life has turned into at this point. She's a mess.

It's a particularly dark, bad night for her. She's just had two days off and she's tried to busy herself but she's all out of things to do. So drinking till she passes out seems like a pretty solid plan.

A glass just seems like a waste of time at this point, as Bernie decides that she's just gonna drink straight from the bottle tonight.

Cameron had rang half an hour ago, so she doesn't have to worry about waiting for his call. She flops down on the small sofa, bottle of vodka in hand, in the dark living room. She likes the dark.

She's already halfway through the bottle before she even realised it. Her vision is blurred and her head is spinning. The room is pitch black and has been for some time, so when her phone buzzes and lights up, it blinds her.

She squints, trying to adjust to the light. She doesn't know why, it's not like she can fucking see straight or anything.

She had hoped that it would be a text off one of the kids or even, by some miracle, Serena, but it was nothing really. Only some mundane Facebook notification.

It wasn't even notifying her of somebody interacting with her, maybe asking how she is getting on or when she is coming home or telling her they miss her. It was just a random notification about Fletch uploading pictures of his kids.

_Way to kick a girl when she's already down_ , Bernie snorted.

But she's scrolling through the photos and they are adorable and she can't help but smile. She misses Fletch and Raf, and it's nice to see him _finally_ recovered and back out with the kids. She still blames herself for what happened to him. She doesn't think she will ever be able to let that go.

She likes the pictures. And ends up scrolling through more of his profile - it's mostly pictures of the kids and stuff about football. Bloke stuff. And then she ends up on Raf’s, which is pretty much the same.

She hasn't really been on Facebook since she left, she's been avoiding it like the plague. What does she even have to say? That her depression has gotten worse and she's drunk alone in her dark apartment _again_? That she regrets leaving so much it's slowly killing her?

But she's drunk and the vodka has clouded her judgement. And even though she knows it's only going to make things worse, make her miss home more, she can't tear herself away.

She hasn't really missed anything important, if Fletch and Raf’s profiles are anything to go by.

There's an album entitled **Evie's Birthday** , so Bernie clicks on that. She's scrolling through pictures of Evie with her friends, her cake, the little buffet, some silly ones of Fletch and Raf with the kids. It makes her happy, because they all look so happy. And she's about to smile, like really and truly _smile_. But then she stumbles across something that's like a punch to her stomach.

Her chest tightens and her stomach drops.

It's a picture of Serena and Evie, hugging and smiling.

The smile doesn't quite reach Serena’s eyes the way it used to, but she looks happy. So much so, that it knocks the wind from Bernie’s lungs.

_Fuck, she is beautiful_.

She had almost forgotten just _how_ beautiful Serena was. But now it's staring her in the face.

_Stupid, stupid coward._

Bernie wants to throw her phone, to try and get as far away from the picture - the reminder how how badly she fucked up and just how much she _lost_ , as she can.

But her body has other ideas. She's clicked on Serena's profile - they're still friends, which comes as a surprise to Bernie.

Her picture is different from the last time Bernie saw it. Now it's a picture of her and Jason. She's laughing at something he is saying, and it's obviously been taken by somebody else. And _God_ is beautiful.

She misses Jason too. She hadn't realised that until this very moment. But she does.

Serena doesn't post much, she never really did. She's shared the odd article, mostly about Brexit or the NHS. The one about the health benefits Shiraz she just shared last week makes Bernie chuckle.

It's just so Serena. She can almost hear Serena telling her all about it as they make their way through mountains of paperwork in their shared office.

And then it makes her sad. Because it's such a _Serena_ thing to do. And she misses her and she can't believe that she's so fucking stupid.

There's pictures from a few weeks before with Jason that he has tagged her in. And Bernie doesn't want to look at them, but of course she _does_. Because she is a masochistic idiot who can't seem to heed her own advice.

She's so distracted by how cute Serena looks in her pink and blue flowery rain mac and wellies, that she doesn't notice the caption at first.

**Day out to the gardens with Auntie Serena and Robbie**.

But when she does see it, it's that punch to the gut all over again. Only 1000 times worse.

And, at this point, any normal person would put their phone down, but not Bernie. Nope. She's scrolling through the album.

Punch after punch to the gut as she flicks through pictures of Serena and Robbie, and Jason and Robbie, Robbie and a big old Oak tree, Robbie kissing Serena on the cheek.

The urge to launch her phone across the room returns, and this time she does. She hears it crack as it bounces off the wall and lands on the cold, hardwood flooring, but she's too heartbroken to give a damn.

She reaches for her vodka and takes a massive swig. And then another. And she keeps going till there's nothing left. She wants to drown out the picture of him kissing Serena on the cheek but she _can't_. It won't go away, no matter how much she drinks or how hard she tries.

Every time she closes her eyes all she can see is _him_. Kissing the woman she loves. Kissing the woman that a few months ago she was kissing - the woman she should be kissing right this very moment. She tries to think of anything and everything else but her mind keeps going back to that image.

Her chest is so heavy and tight at this point that she is struggling for breath and her cheeks are wet and wait… when did she start crying? Tears are falling down her cheeks faster than she knows what to do with them and _Oh God_ she is a mess.

Sobbing would actually be a better word for it. She's hyperventilating and she's somehow worked herself up so much that she's hysterical. Over a fucking picture.

She wants Serena to be happy. So why is she having a panic attack in her bloody living room?

And okay, she really needs to calm down now. But she can't stop crying. And the more she cries, the harder it is to breathe. But she can't fucking stop.

She has no right to be hurt that Serena is happy and has moved on. _She_ left. She ended things. _She_ hurt Serena.

And she's glad Serena is happy and has moved on, she really is. But it fucking _hurts_. It hurts so goddamn much and Bernie doesn't know what to do. She hadn't exactly thought about what it would be like when Serena, inevitably, moved on. She had just hoped she would. She hadn't thought about much after that.

She never really felt things until she met Serena. Not properly anyway. And she was never good with feelings or emotions - which was why she made a damn good soldier. But Serena had somehow came into her life and knocked down all her emotional walls that she'd spent 50 years building and protecting.

And now the emotional dam had burst. And she felt _everything_ , despite the fact she tried to ignore it. But she was numb to everything else that wasn't Serena related. She is such a mess and her brain hurts and so does her heart and she's so lonely and confused and _scared_.

Her lungs are starting to burn from the lack of oxygen. She has a small balcony at the back of her apartment so she heads out there. The air is freezing cold as it nips at her bare legs. Pants didn't really seem necessary this morning.

Bernie takes deep, calming breaths, holding onto her drainpipe for support. She's pretty drunk and she is stumbling about the place so she grips the pipe with dear life.

She's rather high up and it would be so easy to just let go and lean over the edge. But she's not that far gone. She doesn't want to die, which is something, she supposes. So she grips the pipe with both hands, and rests her forehead against it. Breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth. Concentrating on her breathing and trying to clear her mind.

She’s grasping at straws, but she has to calm herself down. She's regretting downing that bottle of vodka by now, especially on an empty stomach.

But she can't think about that. She needs to calm herself out of this panic attack. And so, she goes back to concentrating on her breathing.

It takes a while, Bernie’s not sure how long, but she's absolutely freezing and her toes are numb, but it eventually starts to work. She feels herself calm down and her lungs fill with oxygen again.

She thinks of the family holiday to Wales they all took when the kids were little. Charlotte took her first steps in the living room of their bungalow and Cameron learnt to ride his bike without stabilisers in the park at the bottom of their little road. That's always been Bernie’s go-to happy place. And it works, almost every time. When it didn't work she used to call Serena, but that's not an option anymore.

After what seems like hours, Bernie is finally calm. She can breathe properly and she's no longer trembling. She's shivering, yes, but that's because it's in the minus numbers tonight and all she is wearing is a tank top and underpants.

She makes her way back inside. She's still drunk, but not as much as she was before. She dumps the empty bottle of vodka in the bin and picks up her phone. The screen is cracked in a web-like pattern, and it's the the only visible evidence of her breakdown.

It still seems to work. Which is good considering she actually needs it for work. She deletes the Facebook app. She can't be dealing with another night like tonight ever again.

Tonight was rock bottom, and the only place a person can go from there is up, right?

She's got another month or so here before her secondment is up. She doesn't exactly want to go back to Holby, back to Serena. She wants to run as far away as she can. And maybe she will. Maybe she will just stay here.

Of course, if she does stay then things are going to have to change. The drinking for one.

She scared the living shit out of herself tonight, so she's going to lay off the alcohol for a while. No more nights like this. Maybe she will look into seeing a therapist. And she's definitely going to try and make some friends. Because she needs somebody, _anybody_.

Sure, she has Cameron. But she can't talk to him about depression and PTSD. She needs a friend. Or a therapist. Or both. Both would be nice. The more the merrier.

Bernie makes herself a large glass of water. She wants to clear her head. To try and be sober.

Because Serena is happy and she's moved on and Bernie really is _glad_. And it hurts. Fuck it hurts. But she deserves it and she brought it on herself. But she can't let it kill her. She has to try and move on too.

She can't let leaving Serena all be for nothing, that breaking both their hearts would have been in vain.

And everything is so much clearer now. And maybe she needed to hit rock bottom. She just wishes that she had hit it sooner. Because everything seems so much clearer now and maybe there's light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel.

She keeps telling herself that Serena is happy with Robbie, and that she needs to be too. And that maybe now Serena is with Robbie that it will make coming back easier. For Serena, at least.

But Serena isn't happy. She isn't even with Robbie. That had been a moment of weakness. Her trying to get over Bernie. But she couldn't get over Bernie, because who could? But Bernie didn't know that. Not yet at least. That bombshell doesn't come for another couple of months, when she's home and trying to play it cool. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this the other night at like 3am which is why it doesn't really make any sense and i'm not sure I like it so it may get taken down in a day or so. Let me know what you think lol.


End file.
